


a lifetime of laughter (at the expense of the death of a bachelor)

by grabmyboner



Series: Dad & Pa [2]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Age Changes, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Parents, Bacon, Family Fluff, Fluff, Harringrove, Husbands, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:28:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21582277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grabmyboner/pseuds/grabmyboner
Summary: Tumblr request // dads harringrove hc? lazy summer morning pancake fests? where billy and steve get up way too early and they both have the day off and start making pancakes and bacon and breakfast food and the kids slowly wake up to all the food smells and race each other to the kitchen/dining room? and billy and steve have to fight laughter bc the only noises they can hear are thumps and yelling bc they are nearly falling down the stairs to get to the food first_“Why are we up so early, Mr Harrington?” Steve asks before stopping just behind Billy and pressing his chest to Billy’s naked back, his arms sliding around his waist and hands splaying across his tiny beer gut. Steve rests his chin on his shoulder and catches Billy smirking, “What?”“Love it when you call me ‘Mr Harrington’.” He admits, pulling another mug from the drying rack on the sink.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Series: Dad & Pa [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1549696
Comments: 30
Kudos: 174





	a lifetime of laughter (at the expense of the death of a bachelor)

**Author's Note:**

> some family fluff as requested. i love this family very much. thank u for reading
> 
> ***Slight edit: The kids’ names have been changed, to avoid some confusion!

Steve rolls over to slap a hand on the literal furnace that is usually hogging the bed, only for his palm to hit the cooling cotton sheet instead. He lifts his head slightly, squinting one eye open to look at the empty space usually occupied by his husband. He pokes his head up higher, looking around the room for any sign of him, his eyes pass over the digital clock resting on their side table to see it flashing 7:03am - Which is way too early to be awake on a Sunday morning when no one has to be at work. 

He reluctantly rolls to a sitting position and flings his legs over the edge of the bed, much to his aching muscles protest. He scratches at his white cotton shirt covering his belly and reaches up to scrub a hand over his face and through his unruly hair. 

He smells coffee in the air and is instantly on his feet, following the smell out of their bedroom and through the hallway. All the kids are asleep, which is to be expected at 7am on a _Sunday_ , he would _also_ like to be asleep in bed, with his _husband_. Layla’s door is wide open and he peaks in to see her rolled like a burrito in her duvet, her hair sticking out and her tiny face squished together. She’s most definitely snoring. He closes the door gently and pads down the stairs to the kitchen. 

Billy’s back is facing him when he enters the room, pouring a cup of coffee. Steve can tell Billy knows he’s there, by how his head turns slightly to look over his shoulder. 

“Why are we up so early, Mr Harrington?” Steve asks before stopping just behind Billy and pressing his chest to Billy’s naked back, his arms sliding around his waist and hands splaying across his _tiny_ beer gut. Steve rests his chin on his shoulder and catches Billy smirking, “What?”

“Love it when you call me ‘Mr Harrington’.” He admits, pulling another mug from the drying rack on the sink. 

Steve laughs against his neck, “You’ve been Mr Harrington for like, 15 years.” He presses a soft kiss to the stubble on his jaw, “Billy Harrington.” 

Billy gives a content hum in response and pours Steve a cup. He turns in his arms and offers Steve the mug, he takes it with one hand and leaves the other resting against Billy’s warm skin. 

“I got hungry, that’s why I’m up so early. Was thinking I’d make some pancakes, maybe some bacon and eggs, I’m starving.” 

Steve nods with a mouth full of coffee and takes a step back leaning against the kitchen island. “Gonna wake the kids?” Billy walks towards the fridge and starts grabbing our random ingredients, “If they want breakfast, they should wake up earlier.” He teases, “I’m sure they’ll wake soon.” 

Steve and Billy go about the kitchen, perfectly in sync, after doing this dance for 20 odd years. Making breakfast, lunch, dinner, for three kids really gives you a lot of practice. The last of the bacon sizzles in the pan, Steve is leaning against the bench with his hip, watching Billy move the food around the pan. He reaches out and scratches his nails up Billy’s back. 

There’s a thump upstairs and Steve and Billy look at each other with a smirk. 

“Move your fat ass, Rhiannon!” Layla yells, “You’re so annoying.”

There’s another thump and then Maverick is shouting, “Did you just trip me? What are you, twelve?” 

There’s stomping down the stairs and more protests before Rhiannon falls through the kitchen entryway, catching herself on the wall before she hits the ground. She stands up straight and looks at both her parents, smiling sweetly. “Morning.” She says. 

Maverick’s tall frame looms behind her before he walks past and shoulder checks her. “I can’t believe you fucking tripped me. You’re a sociopath, y’know that right?” 

“Hey! Maverick. Don’t say things like that.” Billy says while flipping the bacon. 

Maverick gapes, “She tripped me!” 

“She totally did, Daddy. I saw it with my own two eyes.” Layla interjects, she shuffles past both her siblings and in between her parents, giving Billy a quick kiss on the cheek and turning to do this same for Steve. 

“I never get the crispy bacon! You two always steal it!” Rhiannon protests, crossing her arms over here pink button-up pyjama top. 

“And attempting to break my leg is a reasonable solution to that problem?” Maverick says. 

He moves to take a seat at the dining table before Steve calls out, “Hey, set the table.” 

Maverick groans like he’s been punched and reluctantly gets up to set the table. 

Layla and Rhiannon move all the food to the table, Rhiannon snagging the best bits of bacon while she does it, and Steve and Billy put the dirty dishes in the sink. 

Their parents haven’t even sat down before they’re all shovelling food in their mouth like they’ve never eaten before, which is ridiculous because Billy made a whole roast for dinner last night. 

“I need to use the car,” Layla says with her mouth full. 

“Why?” Billy replies over the rim of his mug. 

“Going to Aunt Max’s, so Jack can help me with my art assignment.” 

“Why is our cousin, who doesn’t even take art, helping you with your assignment?” Rhiannon questions, “He’s like the least artistic person ever.” 

“Yeah but he has a nice face to photograph and I think Miss Peters has a crush on Uncle Lucas so like, my theory is,” She’s waving her hands around, a strip of bacon an extension of her limp, “If Jack is my muse, Miss Peter will give me a better grade. Psychology 101.” She finishes, tapping the bacon against her temple. 

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Rhiannon says. 

“Why don’t you use Dad as your muse? Every single teacher at your school has a hard-on for him.” Maverick shrugs. He lifts his coffee to his lips and moves his eyes over to his parents. 

Steve snorts and lifts his hand up to rub over Billy’s shoulder. Billy is sitting at the head of the table, looking smug as all hell. He shrugs and scratches his fingers through his beard, he needs to shave. “I’d be happy to help, sweetheart. Give the people what they want.” 

Layla makes a gagging sound and throws a tiny crisp of bacon at her Dad. At that moment Rhiannon seems to have discovered something, she lets out a gasp and slams her palms against the tabletop. 

“I know why you want to go to Aunt Max’s!” She exclaims, “Becuase of the cute next-door neighbour that just moved in!” 

Layla’s face goes bright red and she ducks her head down, focusing on pushing her food around her plate. 

“Ooh, a cute boy? What’s his name? Does he go to your school?” Steve asks, nudging Layla’s feet teasingly under the table. 

Billy clears his throat and lifts his mug up to his lips, “You’re not going. You can just photograph one of us.” 

“Dad!” Layla objects. 

Steve runs his hand up Billy’s arm and across his chest, fiddling with the golden chain, “C’mon, baby. Don’t go all macho Dad on us.” 

“She’s too young to be dating!” 

Steve snorts and tugs on the chain a bit, “Uh-huh. And what were you doing at sixteen? Care to share it with the class?”

Billy’s jaw goes tight and he gives Steve a _look_. The _shut up, Harrington_ , look. 

“Dad was most definitely doing the dirty.” Maverick interjects, “Probably like all over Cali. Pulling in boys left, right, and centre. Or girls? I don’t know what you were into when you were sixteen.” 

Billy rolls his eyes and hides his face in his hands. Steve laughs. 

“Okay. This has gone like way off track. Whatever, I’ll photograph Dad. Can we stop talking about this now?” Layla says. 

“Please.” Her Dad agrees. 

“Look, all I’m saying is I want Dad’s game. Y’know? I heard he had stella game.” 

Billy stares at his son with a frown, “And who did you hear that from?” Steve asks. 

“Jessica Thompson. She told me her Mom, Tammy. Y’know, Tammy Thompson? Anyways, Jessica told me that her Mom told her that Dad came rolling into Hawkins looking like a member of Mötley Crüe, and had like every girl in Hawkin’s basically drop to their kn-” 

“Ew, shut up!” Rhiannon says, kicking him in the shins. 

Steve is laughing very hard. And Billy is groaning like he’s in physical pain.

“I reckon I should grow a mullet like Dad had.” Maverick finishes.

All his family members yell out a simultaneous _‘No’_ in response. 


End file.
